Christmas on the Prairie

by Frances Devine

She frowned, curiosity leading her as she reached up and pulled. The board and the one underneath gave way. Clearly Frank had built a hiding place into his walls. Not an extremely large one, but big enough to hide all the things she had brought for Rose. The gold French mantel clock and candelabras, plus all the jewels from Aunt Maude’s collection.

  The extra movement helped keep her warm as she went to the trunks and moved the valuables to the hiding place. Afterward she replaced the boards and stood back, satisfied to note Frank had crafted the recess well. Nothing about the boards would make anyone suspicious.

  After she ate her supper, Ansley looked at the nearly full pot of stew and realized she’d have to take it to the cold cellar. If she left it outside, no telling what animals she would draw to the porch. She wrapped up in her coat and scarf and ventured out.

  As snow seeped into her shoes, she realized how woefully inappropriate they were for this sort of life. She made a mental note to ask Teddy’s help to purchase attire fitting for the Kansas prairie.

  The cold cellar was thankfully just a few steps past the porch at the side of the house, and she reached it in no time, though the deep snow crept beneath her clothing and left her wet and miserable. She tried to open the door, but heavy snow covered it, and she couldn’t make it budge. She had no idea where Rose and Frank might have kept their shovels. She was pretty sure she’d never make it the thirty feet to the barn. She had no choice but to cover the pot and hope the animals stayed away.

  Inside she changed out of her wet clothes and sat down at the table. How foolish of her to think she could live alone in a cabin without others to help her.

  Ansley finished washing her supper dishes just as darkness enveloped the skies and crept into the cabin. She lit the oil lamp and carried it into her room, and then set it on the table next to the bed. She went to the fireplace and took down the bed warmer. Thankfully the stove still had embers burning inside. She grabbed the small metal scoop and shoveled the embers into the warmer, then closed it tightly to keep the embers from scorching the sheets.

  Back in the bedroom, she moved the warmer over the sheets before she climbed into bed. As much as she hated to use Rose’s dusty bedding, she knew her own quilt wasn’t going to be warm enough against the cold.

  She removed her shoes, but decided to sleep in her clothes for more warmth. The wool dress would keep her much warmer than a linen nightdress.

  When she finally crawled under the covers, the bed warmer had done its job, and combined with the three quilts and her heavy clothing, she felt warm for the first time since noon. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

  The moon was high when she bolted upright, awakened by...something. There it was again. A scratching and groaning coming from outside the cabin door. Her thoughts went to the valuables hidden in the wall. Had someone seen her hide them? Fear caught in her throat and she realized she had no gun with which to protect herself. If she lived through this night, she would definitely speak to Mr. Dobson about procuring one. She reached under the covers and pulled the handle of the bed warmer, then slowly swung her legs around. When she stood up, she nearly squealed at the freezing cold floor under her feet.

  The scratching came again as she reached the cabin door. She brandished the bed warmer like a sword.

  “Who’s there?” she called out. “I have a weapon.” Perhaps the intruder would assume she was aiming a gun at the door. After all, who didn’t have a gun in these parts? Only her.

  The scratching came again, followed by a bark this time. Ansley frowned. Who brought their dog with them if they were up to no good?

  She called out again, and still the only answer was a bark and then a whine. That did it. There was a dog outside her cabin trying to get in. And the varmint had probably eaten her stew. A truly pitiful, hairy creature sat in front of her door. “Why, you’re the fellow that came by last week. Don’t you have a home?”

  He whined in answer and jumped up on the door, knocking it open and nearly knocking Ansley off her feet. She stumbled back as the massive animal, much bigger than it had appeared on her porch, pounced on her, placing its paws on her chest. “Gracious,” she hollered. “Get down.”

  The dog obeyed instantly and sat in front of her, tongue out, tail wagging. She tilted her head and eyed the hairy mutt. He was...sort of cute, she supposed. She’d never owned, nor had a desire to own, a dog. But she wasn’t without mercy.

  “For goodness’ sake, I can’t send you back out to freeze, can I?” He gave a quick bark and started to jump on her again. Ansley stepped back and pointed. “No. Stay down.”

  Immediately he sat.

  Smiling, she patted his wet head and closed the door. “Well, I’m sorry there’s no fire in the fireplace. I’m afraid I’m incompetent in that department. I bet you’d love to lie in front of a fire to dry off. But maybe I can dry you off a different way.” She went into the bedroom and grabbed her oldest nightgown from her trunk. She stoked up the kitchen stove and went to work trying to get the beast more comfortable. An hour later, between the fire in the stove and her vigorous rubbing, he was dry. She fed him the rest of the bread and set the pail of water on the floor. Then she filled the bed warmer again and headed to the bedroom. The dog trotted after her, happily wagging his tail.

  “Now, listen. You may sleep on the floor anywhere in this cabin. But do not jump on my sister’s sofa and do not under any circumstances sleep in my bed. Is that understood?”

  Ansley had always believed animals to be much more intelligent than humans gave them credit for. So she hoped he had understood. She pointed to the throw rug next to her bed and said, “Down,” since that had seemed to work earlier. He dropped to his belly and rested his head between his paws. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Satisfied, Ansley crawled back into bed and hoped for a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  The sun peeked through her window, waking her early the next morning. She snuggled into the cozy warmth of her bed, hating to push aside the covers and expose herself to the freezing cold cabin. Then she realized the bed might have been a little warmer than it should have, even with three quilts. She opened her eyes and ventured a glance, then let out a heavy sigh. Clearly the dog hadn’t understood after all. Curled up next to her, he was sleeping peacefully.

  Well, she had prayed she wouldn’t freeze to death. Perhaps this dog was simply an answer to her prayer and a promise from the Lord that He would indeed take care of her throughout the winter.

  * * *

  Seth frowned as he approached the cabin where he’d left Ansley the day before. The children had been sullen until they began talking about their visit with Ansley. Then they chattered incessantly. Aunt Ansley said this, Aunt Ansley let us do that. We should have stayed for supper since Aunt Ansley went to all that trouble to cook for us.

  Seth knew he had behaved rashly when he made the sudden decision to hitch the sleigh and go pick them up. Jonah had worried himself sick about whether she could keep the fire going. This morning, he wouldn’t stop pestering Seth until he made good on his promise to come over to the cabin and check on her.

  And it appeared the boy had been right. There wasn’t a hint of smoke coming from the chimney or the stovepipe above the kitchen stove. His stomach clenched with worry. He remembered how ignorant Rose had been about everything when she first arrived in Kansas as Frank’s new bride.

  He inwardly kicked himself. He should have made certain Ansley could take care of herself before rushing the children out of the cabin yesterday. Teddy had grown up building fires, cooking. Could Ansley even boil a pot of coffee? Well, yes, he knew she could do that much. And the stew had smelled edible. But she had to have a fire to make coffee or cook.

  He pulled on the reins and the sleigh came to a halt in front of the cabin. Everything looked cold and dark inside, and as he stepped onto the porch, he worried that he might find Ansley half-froze
n. He frowned at the pot of stew on the porch, upended but without a drop of food. An animal likely got to it. He’d have to tell her to use the cold storage unless she wanted to draw wolves or bobcats.

  He picked up the pot and knocked on the door. A bark greeted him from the other side of the door. What on earth? He knocked again and again heard the bark, followed by a thud—presumably a dog was jumping against the door.

  A knot formed in his throat. Had someone tried to take shelter in the cabin and found Ansley there? Fear and guilt combined inside of him. If something had happened to Ansley, he’d never forgive himself for his behavior toward her. Removing his pistol from his belt, he reached for the latch. He was about to shove his way in when the door opened. Ansley stood wrapped in a quilt, and a large hairy dog stood in front of her. The mutt gave a low warning growl. Obviously, he had the same idea that Seth had—he wanted to protect Ansley.

  “It’s okay,” Ansley said softly, scratching the dog’s head. Instantly, the animal trotted away and flopped down next to the kitchen table. Ansley looked up and gave Seth a rueful grin. “He scratched at my door overnight. I think he likes me.”

  “That’s the mutt I threw out of here last week, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, grinning and motioned to the pot he still held. “He smelled the stew. At least it didn’t go to waste.”

  Seth set the pot on the counter by the washbowl. “I’ll put the word out in case someone is missing him.”

  Her brow creased for an instant, and then she nodded. “I suppose we should do that. I doubt his owners would want to lose him.”

  Seth couldn’t help but smile. “You planned on keeping him?”

  She shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But I suppose if no one claims him, he can stay.”

  As he had suspected, there was no fire in either the fireplace or the cookstove. “Have you been without heat since we left yesterday?”

  Ansley shook her head. “I can build a fire in the kitchen stove. I’m ashamed to say, the dog and I had just climbed out of bed when you knocked. I was too cold to move and he was keeping me warm.”

  A chuckle from Seth’s mouth made a puff of steam inside the cold cabin. “You let him sleep in your bed? You’ll likely be full of fleas.”

  “Fleas!”

  “Well, dogs have fleas. And that dog has enough hair to hide an entire town of the little critters. If you’re going to keep him inside, you’ll need to scrub him down with lye soap. You have some on the shelf over there.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose I’d best do that today, then.” She frowned, pushing out her lips as though trying to decide just how to go about accomplishing such a task.

  Seth shook his head. “Let me get a good fire going in the fireplace while you light the stove, and we’ll get him taken care of before I leave. But don’t expect him to like it.”

  Relief passed across her face. “I’d appreciate it.”

  By the time the fire was roaring, Ansley had lit the stove and had a pot of coffee boiling. He frowned. “Aren’t you going to have breakfast?”

  Her face turned red. “Oh, are you hungry?”

  “No. I had mine at home. But I don’t see any fixings for yours.” Again, he kicked himself. “I guess the snow covered over the door to the cellar?”

  She nodded and quickly looked away, but not before Seth saw tears in her lovely blue-green eyes.

  “Look, Ansley,” he said. “I’m sorry we left you here like this. We had no idea you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

  Her head jerked up and her eyes flashed. “I can so take care of myself. I just didn’t know it was going to snow like this. I’d have gotten my supplies indoors sooner if I’d known.”

  “What about the fire?”

  Gathering a breath, she raised her arms and let them fall against her sides. “Well, yes, the fire is a problem. I suppose I should have watched how you made that one.”

  Taken off guard by her sudden humility, Seth reached out and gripped her shoulder. The dog growled.

  A smile tipped Ansley’s lips. “Maybe with him around, I won’t need a gun after all.”

  The dog slunk to Seth’s feet, eyeing him like a bobcat would a weasel. Seth dropped his hand from Ansley’s shoulder and frowned. “You don’t have a gun?”

  “Why, no. I’ve really never cared for them.”

  “Well, out here, people carry guns. Especially women living alone. What if someone came to your door with ill intentions? How would you protect yourself?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell in an infuriating shrug that proved she had no idea of the dangers of living out here. He wished he’d fought harder to keep her from moving into the cabin.

  “I suppose the dog will protect me. After all, he got your hand off my shoulder just now, didn’t he?”

  There was no arguing with a woman who always thought she was right.

  With a growl, Seth decided to change the subject. “What do you want from the cold cellar?”

  “Oh, if you tell me where to find a shovel, I can attend to that.”

  “Look, I’m here. I have nothing else to do, and I’m willing to help. Don’t be so stubborn.”

  “Fine, Mr. Dobson. And for the record, I don’t know what’s in the cold cellar, so how would I know what I want?”

  “Never mind. I’ll bring up a few supplies you might need for the next couple of days. If you pack snow in the laundry tub, you should be able to keep the food good for that long.”

  Glad to be outside, away from the lure of Ansley’s eyes and her frustrating stubbornness, he went to the barn, grabbed the shovel and cleared off the cellar door. Minutes later, he stepped around to the front to find Ansley filling the washtub with the snow as he’d suggested. He dumped the food he’d gathered: a bit of bacon, enough for breakfast for a couple of days, a deer roast and a couple of the jars—applesauce and peas—Teddy had spent the month of September putting up.

  Once inside, Ansley pulled two cups from the cabinet above the stove. “Come and warm up.” She poured coffee for each of them as he set the tub on the counter.

  He sat at the table and picked up the spoon next to his cup. She remembered he liked sugar. Somehow, the thought that they had something in common made him feel generous. “The children were disappointed they had to go home last night. They talked about you all the way home and all through supper.”

  When her face brightened, he felt his chest swell. He remembered Frank saying one time that he lived a happy life with Rose, but the happiest moments were those in which something he did just for her caused her eyes to light and her mouth to smile. He wasn’t sure why he had thought of that, but perhaps this was close to the feeling Frank had described.

  “I don’t suppose they had school today?” she asked.

  Seth shook his head. “I imagine those who live in town went, but the teacher knows not to expect those who live on farms to come to school when the snow is this high.”

  “Not even with the sleigh?” She nodded toward the door. “It’s lovely, by the way. I’ve always loved riding in a horse-drawn sleigh.”

  “So did Rose. There’s a cutter in the barn that Frank and I made the first winter they were married. By the time we got it finished, they couldn’t use it until the next year, though.”

  “Was there nothing he wouldn’t do to make my sister happy?” Ansley asked, her eyes glistening. Standing, she walked over to the mantel and pulled off a familiar wooden box. “I’ve been admiring this since I arrived. Look at the beautiful roses carved into the cover. It’s as beautifully finished as anything I’ve seen in Boston.” With a sigh, she set the box on the table and sat back down in her chair. “Rose must have been the most blessed woman in the world to have a man who loved her so much. I just wish...”

  Without thought, Seth reached over and cover
ed her hand with his. “I’m sure she knew you loved her and didn’t wish her ill for leaving you.”

  “That’s just it. I did at times resent that she had gone off and left me all alone with Aunt Maude. And then when I never received any letters, I thought she’d forgotten all about me. I never wished her anything but happiness, but as I said, there were times I deeply resented being left alone to care for our aunt.”

  Seth moved his hand from hers and took hold of his cup. “Don’t worry yourself about that, Ansley. It’s only natural to resent it when someone leaves you to shoulder responsibilities that shouldn’t be yours alone to bear.”

  A frown creased her brow and before she even spoke, Seth knew what she was going to say. “Do you mean like Frank and Rose leaving their children for you to raise?”

  “If I said ‘yes,’ would you try to use it against me?” He searched her face but could find no judgment, no ulterior motive. Perhaps he didn’t know her well enough to ponder what was going on inside her head, but if he had to guess, he’d say she was interested for his sake, not for her own.

  When she smiled, he knew he was right. “Mr. Dobson...Seth...I appreciate your honesty.”

  “To be honest, I was thinking more of Teddy. She’s far too young to be taking on the responsibility of the children. Grandpa would like her to come live with him in Martin’s Creek and she was all set to do so, and then the accident happened. Now that the children are settled, she could go, but she doesn’t think I can raise them properly without her.”

  “Can you?” Ansley ducked her head as soon as she spoke. “I’m sorry, Seth. I shouldn’t have asked that. Of course you can take care of them.”

  She’d apologized so fast, Seth didn’t even have the chance to be offended by her question. “I can take care of all their physical needs. That’s for sure. But I can’t give them what a woman can.”

  Reaching over, Ansley placed a warm, slender hand on his forearm. “Those children know they are loved. That’s the most important thing. A woman raised Rose and me, and take it from someone who knows, just because she was a woman didn’t make her loving or compassionate.”